As he caught his footing, his head fell back, and the Milky Way flowed down inside him with a roar.
Cosmic time is the same for everyone, but human time differs with each person. Time flows in the same way for all human beings; every human being flows through time in a different way.
Anyway, it’s hardly a problem worth worrying about.
He was conscious of an emptiness that made him see Komako’s life as beautiful but wasted, even though he himself was the object of her love; and yet the woman’s existence, her straining to live, came touching him like naked skin. He pitied her, and he pitied himself.
The true joy of a moonlit night is something we no longer understand. Only the men of old, when there were no lights, could understand the true joy of a moonlit night.
The labor into which a heart has poured its whole love – where will it have its say, to excite and inspire, and when?
The road was frozen. The village lay quiet under the cold sky. Komako hitched up the skirt of her kimono and tucked it into her obi. The moon shone like a blade frozen in blue ice.
It’s remarkable how we go on year after year, doing the same old things. We get tired and bored, and ask when they’ll come for us.
Put your soul in the palm of my hand for me to look at, like a crystal jewel. I’ll sketch it in words...